


Borderless

by bamboo_astronaut (A_Lesbian_With_Pink_Hair)



Series: Painted Skies [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Roadtrip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 11:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Lesbian_With_Pink_Hair/pseuds/bamboo_astronaut
Summary: On the road from Ishgard to Zenith, a hesitant partnership between Alphinaud and Estinien becomes something more.





	Borderless

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah this was originally gonna be a few chapters long and I was going to draw the whole thing out more but I'll be honest with y'all, this is just what I was working on when I was taking a break from writing my master's thesis. And the thesis is due 11 days from the date of posting here. So I hope this is satisfactory.
> 
> Featuring my own WoL, Rampaging Star the Roegadyn dragoon, who is as strong as she is gay.
> 
> Note on ages: I headcanon that there are approximately 2 years between ARR and HW, and another 2 between HW and SB. Thus, in this fic, Alphinaud is 18 and Estinien is 24.

As they prepare to leave for Coerthas, it is obvious that Estinien sees Alphinaud as a weak, bookish boy with no place on their journey to Dravania, despite it being his grand idea. But as they travel together, that changes. Alphinaud works hard, as he always has, to be a worthy ally to Rampaging, fully determined to make up for his naivety and blundering with the Braves. And with Estinien judging his every move, he’s all the more determined for his plan to succeed.

Their journey begins in the snowy fields of the Highlands, and it is _cold_. Rampaging is big and hot-blooded, radiating heat, a Roegadyn through and through, and Estinien is Ishgardian, more than prepared for the cold and the ice. Alphinaud has always gotten cold easily, something Alisaie always teases him for, but he marches through the snow after his companions, warmer now in the coat Tataru had made for him, but still quite cold.

The first night they make camp, Alphinaud shares a tent with Rampaging, leeching off her body heat greedily as she sleeps unbothered by the temperature. He shares with her all the way through the snow until they reach the expedition leader that directs them to the Akh Afah Ampitheatre, where Estinien looks impressed, even backing up Alphinaud's plan. His approval sends an unexpected thrill through Alphinaud, and it isn’t the last time it happens.

During the two days where they work to find out how to summon Lady Iceheart as her fellow heretics do, Alphinaud feels the heat of Estinien’s gaze all the time, and it is not at all unwelcome. Even Rampaging notices it, and points it out to him gently, seeming largely entertained by the whole thing. He has no experience with romance at all, and it’s frustrating to suddenly be faced with it now of all times. He and Estinien are alone together for the first time as they gather suitable firewood for the signal fire, and the silence is deafening. Alphinaud tries to ignore it, tries to focus on his long-term improbable goal of ending a thousand year old war through peaceful negotiation. His success on ignoring it varies by the hour.

Finally, after days of shuffling through the cold, they find Iceheart. Or, rather, she finds them, following their smoke expecting to find more of her own. But between Alphinaud and Rampaging Star, she is more or less convinced of their peaceful intentions (even as she refuses to trust Estinien’s presence) and agrees to accompany them on their journey.

On their way to the small settlement of Tailfeather, they spend a night camped under the stars. Alphinaud is proud of himself, privately; the first part of his plan has succeeded, and soon they will be on their way to speak with Vidofnir, and he is convinced that Iceheart—that _Ysayle_ \-- will be able to help them find a nonviolent solution to the problem that is Nidhogg and the Dragonsong War.

They have only two tents for the four of them, and as putting Lady Iceheart and the Azure Dragoon together would be insane (for surely one of them would be dead by morning) they decide to split off by gender. Ysayle glances between Alphinaud and Estinien and seems to immediately comprehend something about them that Alphinaud himself is still grasping at.

Whatever it is Ysayle thinks she sees makes her laugh, but not unkindly, and she makes a decent show of retreating from the campfire with Rampaging to retire for the night. Estinien watches them go with attentive eyes. Once the tent flap falls and he and Alphinaud are alone by the low burning embers, he removes his helm with a sigh. And finally, as the hour grows late and all the light left to them are the brilliant stars above, Alphinaud finds his courage in the dark.

He feels foolish; a boy of eighteen, smaller than most due to the nature of his birth, weak and untested in physical strength. How must he appear to Estinien, who has lived for 24 summers and is among the greatest warriors in all of Ishgard, if not the greatest? The Azure Dragoon. He speaks very little, and when he does, his voice is rough, often impatient or rude. But he is clever, cleverer than he seems, which is how he prefers things. It is good to be underestimated in battle if you can make it into an advantage.

Still, Alphinaud speaks the words, because words are what he excels at.

“Estinien,” he says, softly, breaking their stargazing silence. Estinien grunts in response.

“I… that is… Rampaging told me that you had been… watching me. Earlier. The past week.”

Estinien is quiet for a long time; Alphinaud contemplates dragging himself to bed in embarrassment.

“Aye,” he finally speaks. “I might have been.”

“I see.”

Alphinaud swallows, nervous. He has never—he has never. Not in his life. He has always been focused on studies, on journeys of importance and rescue, of time spent with family when possible. Not too many friends. No romance.

“I was… wondering why,” Alphinaud finishes lamely. He is glad that in the light of the quartered moon and the stars, he can see little, and so Estinien can see little of him. The gleam of silvery hair and pale skin. The soft glow off of Estinien’s armor. The low light from the dying embers of their fire. He can’t see how Alphinaud is red in the face.

Estinien is quiet again, as he is wont to be.

“You’re… interesting,” he says at last. “I’ve never known anyone quite like you. Plenty of people in Ishgard are clever, but useless with it. And plenty of people are strong, but have nowhere they want to put it. But you…” He pauses. “You’re a scholar, aye, and you carry yourself with quite a lot of self-assurance. I was… surprised to realize that you intend to earn it. I thought… what use will this boy be on this journey? But I was wrong. We wouldn’t have found Iceheart without you. And we’ve much further still to go.”

“Oh.” Alphinaud fidgets with his hands. “Because, I… I was…”

“…you were…?”

“I was… watching you, as well.”

“Hm.”

“You’re the only person I know whose strength even comes close to the Warrior of Light’s,” Alphinaud says. “She is like a sister to me. She treats people with such kindness. Even if it’s hard to do. Even if they don’t think they deserve it. But if she wanted to… there’s no one she could not best. And you… I think no one could beat you, save her. Your power… it carries the hope of a nation. But it doesn’t seem heavy as you wear it.”

Estinien shifts, Alphinaud can tell from the quiet clink of armor.

“Ah.” A moment of quiet. Then, “Am I?”

“Are you what?”

“A sibling.”

“ _No_.”

“An ally.”

“I should hope so.”

“A friend?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

The word hangs in the air like so much weight. Alphinaud voices what he must.

“And…and  I don’t see what I have that could interest you. Ishgard is full of scholars. Full of people who…” He can’t say it. It catches in his throat, a stuttering breath. He sighs. He has to. “People who, regardless of race or gender or class or creed, people… who would be happy to… to…  with the Azure Dragoon… people who _want_ you.”

It comes out broken and foolish, but conveys what he means. The people of Ishgard love their heroic Azure Dragoon. And just about any one of them would likely be greatly pleased to share a bed with him.

“Mm.”

Estinien moves suddenly, faster than Alphinaud can track. Usually he telegraphs his movements outside of battle, even in the dark, for the benefit of his less adept companions, but in one moment he is a few fulms away and the next Alphinaud can feel Estinien’s cool breath on his cheeks.

“Forget them. What do _you_ want, hmm?” Estinien says, voice gravelly and low, which Alphinaud finds thrilling.

“I… I want…”

Estinien’s gloved hand catches Alphinaud’s chin and tilts his head up, and it’s so dark outside, but Alphinaud is sure that Estinien can still see him perfectly well somehow.

“I was watching you before,” Estinien tells him, “because when I first saw you I had no idea how such a pretty little thing could be of use on the road. And then when I realized you were as intelligent and as resourceful as you were pretty… It was a joy just to see you work.”

Alphinaud’s heart flutters, at his words and his proximity.

“You’re so young,” the dragoon murmurs. “Untested. The rest of our journey will not be easy, as the first part of it was not.”

“I’m eighteen,” Alphinaud protests. “I can handle myself.”

Estinien answers, “So I have seen. Tell me though. The Warrior of Light is like a sister to you, you said. What am _I_ to you, Alphinaud?”

That leaves Alphinaud speechless, embarrassed. He doesn’t have the words to answer that sound any good. A crush? A first love? A distraction, or a new experience waiting to happen?

“Not a sister,” is what Alphinaud replies, and Estinien freezes, releases him, and laughs. He laughs very hard, harder than Alphinaud has ever heard him laugh, and then he sighs as his laughing slows.

“Is there something in particular you’d like to be to me?” Alphinaud asks boldly.

“Aye,” Estinien answers. “And I’ve never been one for dancing around it. We’ve got a perfectly good tent to ourselves, after all.

“Oh.” The wind leaves Alphinauds lungs. He’s never even kissed anyone, and Estinien wants to…

Estinien notices.

“…Or not,” he amends.

“I… I want to,” Alphinaud admits. He does. He’s hungry for something he’s never had. But he doesn’t want to put the chocobo before the cart. And he doesn’t want to rush into something he’s never done before, least of all this. “I’ve just…”

“Ah,” Estinien breathes softly. “You’ve never.”

“…No.”

Somehow Alphinaud can feel Estinien’s gaze on him, but he doesn’t know what it means. Maybe Estinien is deciding if this is worth the trouble. After all, there’s no shortage of interested parties of every kind back in Ishgard.

There’s a shifting as Estinien backs out of Alphinaud’s space, and a clink of armor, and several pieces of it fall to the ground. And then Estinien shuffles closer again, and cups Alphinaud’s cheek with an ungloved, unarmored hand. His fingers are calloused and rough, but his movements are surprisingly gentle.

“Alphinaud,” he says, sounding strained. “May I… Will you…”

And for once, Alphinaud is out of words entirely, so he nods and Estinien leans in so close and then their mouths are touching, quick and fleeting before Estinien pulls back just an ilm.

“Was that okay?” he asks. Alphinaud nods again, and leans in himself. He’s clumsy, and inexperienced, but it doesn’t seem too hard to tilt himself forward again. Estinien meets him, warm and present, and moves his lips against Alphinaud’s, and Alphinaud follows his lead.

They kiss until Alphinaud leans away, breathless, heart hammering in his chest. Estinien’s hand on his face is still a warm and welcome touch, and he traces his thumb lightly over Alphinaud’s cheekbone.

It’s quiet again, and all Alphinaud can hear is his own rapid pulse thundering in his ears and Estinien’s controlled breathing.

After a moment Estinien pulls away and stands, stretching and removing the rest of his armor as Alphinaud tries to get himself under control. Wordlessly, Estinien makes for the tent and looks back at Alphinaud expectantly.

They sleep back to back, as they did the night before, but the warmth has gone from comfortable to nearly maddening as Alphinaud falls asleep thinking of the warm press of lips and the soft touch of fingers on his skin.

\--

Estinien kisses him good morning the next day, offering a rare almost-smile before he makes his way outside, seemingly far less affected by things than Alphinaud himself. Rampaging seems smug in a somehow congratulatory way.

Alphinaud has never considered himself especially interested in physical romance, but sleeping with Estinien’s heat at his back is already becoming distracting and… titillating.

If Estinien is aware that he’s quickly driving Alphinaud mad, he isn’t showing it.

When they stop at Tailfeather two days later, they are able to rent some beds at the main settlement. There’s only two rooms, but after two weeks of camping, and with more still to go, that seems like a luxury. The rooms are plain; one bed, one cabinet, a wash basin, a desk and a chair. They’re meant for housing chocobo hunters, not guests, but Rampaging ran them some errands as she is wont to do, and Marcechamp let them stay the night anyway.

Alphinaud eyes the bed desirously; he never thought he would be so happy to see a bed in his life. He doesn’t hesitate in removing his shoes and his coat and flopping down happily on the mattress.

Estinien watches him, amused, as he shuts the door behind them. “I see you’ve been missing something these few weeks after all,” he says.

“Well… There’s not much to say for sleeping on the ground,” Alphinaud protests.

“What about the company?”

Alphinaud shivers, although he isn’t cold. “The company is still here,” he counters, feeling just a bit mischievous.

The dragoon eyes him warily even as he begins to remove his heavy armor. “Aye, and there's candlelight.”

Alphinaud flushes, and Estinien smirks. “I don’t mind the light. I can finally see your pretty face.”

Alphinaud shakes his head and removes his socks, tossing them in the direction of his discarded boots. “I should… I should plan. Marcechamp gave me a map, I need to look at it… Maybe I should speak with Ysayle, or—“

His stream of thought and speech is interrupted by Estinien’s mouth on his, and he leans into it with a shiver. Tomorrow’s plan can wait, he concedes, as Estinien, sans armor, crawls over him and presses him back against the pillows. Lately it seems as though Estinien’s kiss is the only thing that can slow his rapid thoughts even slightly. It’s not unpleasant, either.

Estinien doesn’t treat him as a child now, like he did as recently as the day they let Ishgard, but he does treat him with a certain kind of delicacy, as though he thinks Alphinaud would break or run if he pushed. It’s strange; Estinien is always rough, overpowering, a quietly controlled fury; that’s how he fights, that’s how he speaks. But it isn’t quite how he loves. Or, at least, it is not how he is with Alphinaud.

Alphinaud reaches up and tangles his fingers in Estinien’s thick white hair, pulling him down and tilting his head, changing the angle perfectly. Estinien’s bigger hand covers Alphinaud’s own, fingers curling around each other, and finally he pulls back.

“We should sleep,” Estinien says quietly. “We leave here at dawn.”

\--

Alphinaud wakes from a dream he doesn’t remember with Estinien shaking him gently.

“I… uh?” He blinks up, able to see Estinien’s outline just faintly in the moonlight streaming through the window of the room.

“You were talking in your sleep,” Estinien says quietly.

“Oh,” he whispers back, despite there being just the two of them in the room. “I apologize for disturbing you.”

“It’s not that,” Estinien says. His voice is so low and so quiet; they seem to exist in this tiny dark room somewhere out of time. “You were, well. Alphinaud, you seem… frustrated lately.”

“I am very eager to speak with Vidofnir,” Alphinaud answers. Estinien hums in acknowledgement, and Alphinaud realizes that Estinien is very, very close, leaning against him, a hand on Alphinaud’s hip. And by that hand, for the first time in ages, Alphinaud realizes he’s woken up hard, and that the sounds he must have been making…

“By the Twelve,” he murmurs, embarrassed. “I’m—“

“Alphinaud,” Estinien interrupts softly. “I can… help you. If you want. I want very much to let you set the meter of… this. But I…”

His hand flexes on Alphinaud’s hip.

“I would…”

Alphinaud understand what Estinien is asking.

“Yes,” he gasps. “I want—please…”

Estinien hums again, and draws Alphinaud back against him easily, as if he weighs nothing at all. Alphinaud is warm all the way from head to foot, pressed snug against Estinien’s chest. He rests his head on Estinien’s free, extended arm. He’s very comfortable now, aside from the ache in his pajama pants, but the hand on his hip is moving now, sliding under the hem of his sleep shirt and feeling up the front of his chest.

Estinien breathes, “You fit here so well,” against Alphinaud’s ear and he shivers, pressing back against his bedmate. He closes his eyes; it’s too dark to see much anyway. Estinien spreads his fingers, as if mapping out Alphinaud’s chest, one thumb brushing over a pert nipple, and Alphinaud makes an embarrassing gasping sound.

“ _Please_ ,” he says softly, and Estinien presses a kiss into his hair. His hand dips down, fingers slipping into Alphinaud’s undergarments and wrapping around his erection. Alphinaud keens and arches his back, and Estinien strokes from base to tip with a closed fist. “Oh,” Alphinaud chokes out, suddenly at Estinien’s mercy. “Oh, oh, I…”

It’s entirely overwhelming, Estinien’s warmth at his back, his hands on him.

“I won’t—Estinien, I—“

“Well now,” Estinien nearly purrs, content as he is to have what he wants. “Won’t you let me hear you? The walls are thick. The other two are up the hall… It is only I.”

Alphinaud’s whole world narrows down to what’s happening in this room, and it feels good, his head is spinning and Estinien is _touching him_ where no one has ever. Estinien grazes his teeth against the shell of Alphinaud’s sensitive ear and he whines, tilting his head to bare his neck, an invitation that the dragoon accepts with his lips and teeth and tongue.

He doesn’t last long, and Estinien seems pleased, although it’s difficult to tell in the dark. Alphinaud cleans himself up with the rag in the wash basin, and after a few moments of hesitation, he moves to lie on his own side of the bed, but Estinien tilts him backwards gently.

“Um…” Alphinaud is at a loss for words; his whole body feels light and good, but he’s done nothing for Estinien, and he isn’t sure what he could do, or if he should offer.

“Let’s go back to sleep,” Estinien suggests, pulling Alphinaud in against him once again, draping an arm over Alphinaud’s middle. His voice falters as he makes sure he’s not overstepping any boundaries. “Is… is this okay?”

“Yes,” Alphinaud says softly. “This is perfect.”

\--

Over a week later, when they finally leave the moogles and Kan-E-Senna behind and camp out near the base of Zenith, the mood around the campfire is hopeful. It's surprisingly peaceful, despite the need to wait for the wind to change. Rampaging has her eyes closed as she listens to the sounds of the world around her. Ysayle is quiet, happy, and she and Estinien are fighting less than they had been before. The moon is full and bright, and when they all turn in to sleep, it’s with full bellies and optimistic outlooks for the morning.

Alphinaud lights a small lamp inside the tent so he can go over the map again, although he has done so a thousand times already and knows the route by heart. Estinien chuckles as he comes into the tent, his armor cleaned and neatly stacked as he places it on the ground by the entrance. Alphinaud turns from where he is laying on his stomach, glancing over his shoulder at his lover.

“You know where we’re going,” Estinien says.

“I do,” Alphinaud agrees. “It just… doesn’t hurt to double check.”

“Double is two. You have looked at our path over one hundred times, boy.”

Alphinaud shakes his head; Estinien calls him that teasingly, but he doesn’t especially like it.

“Don’t call me that. I am an adult.”

Estinien smiles. “That’s what all children say.”

Alphinaud sighs, but returns the smile. Estinien’s smile is small, but every time he sees it Alphinaud’s heart stutters. Few people have ever seen the Azure Dragoon look anything but angry and fierce. It has been something of a bewildering journey, their undefined relationship strangest of all.

Alphinaud watches Estinien expectantly as he folds the map and tucks it into his pack. The dragoon’s gaze flickers over to the lamp and then back to Alphinaud’s face, assessing how well they can see each other.

“You are right, though. You are an intelligent and talented man. That is how you've brought us this far.”

“Thank you.”

“Even if you’ve certainly checked that map once for each of Vidofnir’s scales.”

Alphinaud just laughs as Estinien approaches the bedrolls.

“Alphinaud,” he says, and his voice is heavy with desire, if a voice can truly be heavy with anything. He kneels down, knees bracing outside Alphinaud’s thighs as he lowers himself to the ground where Alphinaud can feel the heat from his body.

“Yes?” Alphinaud answers innocently, as if he doesn’t know, as if he can’t tell, can’t feel what Estinien is thinking of.

“I want…”

It’s been two full weeks since that night in Tailfeather, and Estinien has touched him since, and has talked Alphinaud through returning the favor, which they both thoroughly enjoyed, but never has asked or allowed Alphinaud to offer what remains undone. Alphinaud understands how it works, how it can work, between two men, but Estinien shirks the topic masterfully.

“Tell me,” Alphinaud says, and it’s not begging, but it’s also not far from it.

“I want to…” Estinien pauses, and Alphinaud knows it’s not shyness, but worry about being too frightening, too demanding, too much. “I want to put my mouth on you.” His voice is growling and low, which _does things_ to Alphinaud, and Alphinaud’s whole face turns pink just thinking about it even as he nods.

Together they work the rest of their clothes off, with Alphinaud’s smallclothes being removed last, down his long legs as Estinien’s eyes sweep up and down his naked form. Alphinaud resists the urge to cover himself, to turn away. It’s been dark every time until now, but with the lamplight burning low on the ground near the pillows, the light glinting in Estinien’s hungry eyes… now they can both see nearly perfectly, and it’s twice as thrilling as it is terrifying.

Alphinaud knows he is nothing much to behold; he is smaller than the average elezen of the same age, more slender than muscular, no great warrior like Estinien or Rampaging, not tall and particularly graceful like Ysayle. But whatever it is Estinien’s eyes see, they deem it pleasing somehow, and he leans in to press a kiss at the corner of Alphinaud’s mouth, against the pulse of his throat. He stops there to lick Alphinaud’s heated skin, to suck a mark into his pale flesh, as though marking his place for later. Or, perhaps, marking what’s his.

He mouths down Alphinaud’s chest, licking over one pink nipple, thumbing over the other with his hand. Estinien seems to like it here especially; these sensitive spots on his chest that Alphinaud has never really thought about before. Although it’s less them and more the sweet noises Estinein can draw out when he plays with them. Alphinaud whimpers; Estinien hums softly, greedy for every sound his younger lover makes. He twists and rubs one nub between his finger and thumb, just enough pressure to have Alphinaud arching unconsciously into his ministrations. And then he moves down, teeth scraping Alphinaud’s soft belly, his whole body unscarred, untouched by war. Estinien is glad. Alphinaud should never have to fight like that.

He licks up the length of Alphinaud’s cock, eyes looking up at Alphinaud, who is staring down unblinking, but one hand clapped over his mouth. Estinien grins deviously.

“Do keep quiet, sweetling. The women will hear you.”

Alphinaud looks very briefly affronted before Estinien sinks down and swallows him easily.

“A-ah-ahh…” Alphinaud moans softly, fingers tightening around his own jaw. Slowly Estinien pulls back up, licks over the head, and sucks him down again. He’s focused entirely on what he’s doing, but his eyes are locked to his lover’s as he works him over with his mouth.

“I—Estinien,” Alphinaud whispers, “I’m so cl—I’m close, I’m…”

Estinien merely redoubles his efforts as Alphinaud finishes into his mouth and he swallows it all down. Alphinaud’s tries his hardest to keep quiet but it’s so good, and Estinien thinks the soft cries he makes are lovely just as he is, and Estinien appears rather pleased with himself. He presses a soft kiss to Alphinaud’s forehead as Alphinaud regains a modicum of awareness.

“Estinien,” he says, and that’s all, he merely wanted to say the name.

“Alphinaud,” he answers, because he feels much the same way.

Alphinaud reaches up wordlessly, and Estinien goes willingly as Alphinaud embraces him sweetly. And then he says, just slightly less sweetly, “You can have me, you know.”

Estinien jerks back upright and out of Alphinaud’s grasp.

“You don’t have to do that for me,” he says stiffly. “I don’t need that from you.”

“You won’t even discuss it with me? That’s unfair,” Alphinaud protests.

“Alphinaud,” Estinien groans, trying to articulate his hesitance in a way that Alphinaud won’t find insulting. “You’ve never… been with anyone before. And if we do this now, and later in life you think, I do wish I had waited… I do wish I had waited for the right person, instead of just the first person…”

“What if we don’t do this now, and later in life I think, oh, I wish I had been with Estinien that night…”

Naturally Alphinaud wants to debate this. That’s what he does best, after all.

“I can make my own decisions,” he insists. “If you don’t want to, then that’s certainly fine of course, but do not presume to tell me what I want—“

“Of course I _want_ to,” Estinien admits, and even saying it feels almost like a defeat. “How could I not?”

“I… “ He pauses, a little thrilled to be wanted that way. “And I want to as well,” Alphinaud insists, even as his face flushes a bright red.

“Alphinaud.”

“I’m not a child. I make my own choices. I choose this. I choose you, if you’ll have me.”

Estinien is quiet for a long moment. Alphinaud scoots closer to him, and turns Estinien’s face towards him. Estinien regards him with those intense, unyielding eyes of his, and then he deflates, sighing, and covers Alphinaud’s hand with his own.

“You are impossible,” he finally says.

“I have been told that.”

Estinien huffs out a laugh. “You must understand… My reluctance is not because I don’t want you. It is… You are very inexperienced. And I want to be good for you. But I can barely contain myself. I want you too much, maybe. I have been known to be... overwhelming.”

“You don’t have to _want_ me,” Alphinaud murmurs, and he has no idea what that sweet face of his does to Estinien’s thundering heart. “You can _have_ me."

"I..." Estinien's eyes are dark, and his control is visibly slipping.

Alphinaud says, sultry, "I want to be _overwhelmed_.”

And then Estinien snaps. The conversation ends there, Estinien licking his way inside Alphinaud's mouth, kissing him hard and thoroughly like he never has before.

Quickly then, Estinien retreats, pulls cooking oil from his pack, shuffles back to the bedrolls to kiss Alphinaud again, and even though the movement took barely moments, he kisses him like he had missed him in the brief absence.

Alphinaud glances at the bottle before Estinien has him on his back again, has gathered Alphinaud’s wrists in one big hand and presses them into the pillows above his head. Alphinaud tests his hold, and Estinien hums upon the discovery that he can’t pull away from his grip, not as they are. Estinien is strong, and that is an objective fact, and it’s one Alphinaud has considered strategically, and never in this way. He also never considered that he might like it. He finds that he does, in fact, find it quite appealing. Estinien is a powerful warrior, capable of great feats of strength… and, should he decide, capable of holding Alphinaud entirely in place and doing what he likes. And this, in its own way, is sort of appealing as well.

Estinien looms over him, looking at him like he’s trying to regain some self-control, and Alphinaud decides he’d rather not let him. He hooks one slender leg over Estinien’s hips and tries to pull him down against him, and Estinien goes willingly, grinding their hips together. Alphinaud feels Estinien’s cock against his own, and he bites his lip. Estinien is big, bigger than he is, in _every_ way. He’s had Estinien in his hand, but he feels some echo of nerves as he wonders how they’re going to fit together.

With his free hand, Estinien brushes Alphinaud’s hair from his eyes and back behind his ear. He thumbs down the length of his ear just because he can, to the sharp tip, and Alphinaud sighs gently.

“Alphinaud,” Estinien says, low and serious. “If, for any reason, at _any_ time, you change your mind or want to stop or want me to do something differently or _anything…_ I _need_ you to tell me.”

“All right,” Alphinaud agrees.

“I won’t be angry or upset or disappointed. I swear to you.”

“I said _all right_.”

He holds Alphinaud’s face between his hands and kisses him deeply, and reaches for the bottle. It opens with a quiet pop, and Estinien methodically coats each finger of his right hand with the stuff before he re-corks it and drops it somewhere on the blanket.

“Lay back for me,” he murmurs softly.

Alphinaud does, and his heart flutters nervously, but this is _Estinien,_ who has been nothing but kind and considerate, who he trusts with this, and so many other things still undone.

Estinien, always a quiet man by nature, nudges Alphinaud’s thighs apart with his clean hand, and Alphinaud lets him, closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the pillow. It might hurt, he had heard, especially at first.

Estinien’s clean hand grips Alphinaud’s thigh just above his knee, pressing his leg back against his chest so he could reach down where he intends. At first Estinien’s first slick finger circles around Alphinaud’s hole, smearing oil and letting Alphinaud adjust to being touched there, in such a private place.

He moves his finger back and forth a few times before giving a testing push against the tight pucker, and Alphinaud gasps as he does it. He pushes in, insistent but gentle, so careful, until he slips the tip of his finger in past the ring of muscle.

Alphinaud moans quietly. It’s just the very tip of his finger but he already feels the stretch. It’s not bad, or painful, but it’s strange.

“Alphinaud. Okay?” Estinien asks, voice like gravel. He isn’t unaffected by this, which Alphinaud finds heartening.

“Okay,” he answers, and Estinien slips his finger all the way in very, very slowly. Alphinaud thinks it takes an hour maybe, or it just feels that way, this strange and intimate intrusion, until Estinien’s finger is in all the way to the knuckle.

He twists his finger and slides back out, spills more oil over his fingers and returns again, twisting and curving his finger until—

“ _Ah_!”

Alphinaud arches his back, one heel sliding against the blanket looking for traction as he moves. A sudden, bright burst of pleasure, unlike anything he’d yet experienced in his life. His hands fly up towards his face instinctively to mask his sounds.

“That’s it,” Estinien murmurs approvingly, smiling slightly. “But you really must be quieter, Alphinaud. That’s not a jest. The others aren’t far.” He continues mercilessly, however, drags the pad of his finger over that spot inside him again.

“By the Tw… I’m… Estinien, I…” Alphinaud is suddenly breathless; all he wants, all he _needs_ is to feel that sensation again, and again, with Estinien’s comforting warmth above him and reaching inside of him.

Estinien draws his finger out and returns with two, sliding his middle and index fingers back in, just as slowly as before, but now he feels a strange pressure at the base of his spine as Estinien begins to stretch him carefully.

He takes care to pass his fingers over Alphinaud’s prostate as he prepares him, and it’s maddening because it’s so much, and Alphinaud feels dizzy with it, but he wants _more._

Estinien soon gives him three fingers, and it does hurt just a bit, but it’s also a tremendously pleasing stretch, and with his lover making sure to stimulate that spot inside him just perfectly, Alphinaud thinks maybe this tent is the only place that still exists on their small bright star.

“How is it?” Estinien asks, his voice almost startling against the heart pounding in Alphinaud’s ears.

“Ahn… It’s good, I… hn…It’s a lot… But I…Oh…” Alphinaud rolls his hips down and Estinien huffs out a laugh.

“Mm. You _like_ it… You like having my fingers inside you, don't you, sweetling?”

“Yes,” Alphinaud gasps, eyes shut tight, “I, I like it, I..."

"Hmm. You could come just like this, I'd bet."

Alphinaud whines thinking about it. "I think, please, b-but not... I want, I want you to..."

“Shush. I have you.”

He feels Estinien move away, and he feels loose and open without his lover’s fingers, and he groans at the feeling. But then Estinien has both hands on him, tilting his hips up. He lines himself up, and for an instant Alphinaud is convinced he just won’t fit, but then he does, the head of Estinien’s cock slips in, and Alphinaud releases a deep breath he didn’t know he’s been holding.

“Yes, that’s it… look at you…” Estinien marvels, mostly to himself.  “Alphinaud…”

Estinien leans over him to kiss him sweetly, but as requested, Alphinaud is so overwhelmed that it’s all he can do to gasp against Estinien’s mouth as he makes all manner of embarrassing sounds beyond his control, trying his hardest to be quiet but unsure of his success. Estinien shifts, presses kisses along Alphinaud’s jawline, biting at his sharp ears and leaving bruises all over the line of Alphinaud’s throat and collar.

Meanwhile he is sliding himself inside slowly, slower than molasses, slower than all of time, which narrows down to Alphinaud feeling so very, very full, until at last Estinien’s hips are flush with his arse and Estinien reaches up to lace their fingers together on either side of Alphinaud’s head.

“Mm, _Alphinaud_ ,” Estinien rumbles against his ear.

“Ah…”

“You feel so good… I need… can I move?”

Alphinaud can’t even speak, so he nods desperately, his mouth falling open as Estinien drags the full length of his cock against Alphinaud’s prostate.

“E-Estinien…” he murmurs, and he feels his eyes prick with tears. Estinien is everywhere; over him, around him, all the way inside him; he feels exposed, he feels _known,_ and it’s nearly all he can bear.

“Sweetling,” Estinien murmurs, wiping tears from Alphinaud’s eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Y…Yes!” Alphinaud gasps. “Yes, Es…

It seems clear that Estinien is accustomed to being quick with his partners, and this slow, intense crawl towards pleasure is very obviously affecting him as well.

Alphinaud reaches up, hands gripping Estinien’s battle-scarred shoulders, and Estinien creates a pace that slows all of time down to a crawl, and Alphinaud is all sensation, and little else; he feels Estinien’s sweaty skin beneath his hands, he feels Estinien’s teeth at the lobe of his ear, he feels the line of Estinien’s jaw against his own mouth, he feels his cock rub pleasantly against Estinien’s belly, and he feels Estinien inside him, lighting brilliant surges of pleasure that fill him more than he ever knew he could be filled. Estinien’s quiet gasping breath in his ears. Estinien’s hands on him, one beneath his head, the other on one of his thighs, hiking it up to improve the angle just enough.

It goes on for a thousand years, maybe, and then the hand Estinien has on his leg moves and reaches between them, and he takes Alphinaud in his hand and strokes him from base to tip and back down, rough and determined, once, twice, three times, four—he makes it to seven before Alphinaud comes, and Estinien swallows his cry as he claims his mouth again, Alphinaud’s nails digging into Estinien’s back as he arches his body against Estinien’s, and it’s an instant later that Estinien comes inside him, a fact he knows only by the one final shove of Estinien’s hips back inside, and the soft, low pitted grunt Estinien makes, the only vocal indication he gives as he finishes.

They stay like that for several minutes, curled tightly around each other, breathing each other in. Slowly, Estinien draws back, just enough so he can move to press a soft, sweet kiss against Alphinaud’s sweaty forehead, and then buries his mouth and nose in Alphinaud’s hair.

Then slowly, reality creeps back in, and Alphinaud feels achy, and sticky, and his mouth is dry, and frankly, he could couldn’t care less about any of it. Above all else, he feels _good._ Not only that, but he feels cherished. Cared for. Wanted. Beloved, even, maybe.

But Estinien never stills for long, and he extracts himself from Alphinaud’s embrace and body, reaches for a towel from Alphinaud’s pack and passes it to him. They clean themselves off in comfortable silence; Estinien is usually very quiet, and Alphinaud is not yet ready to speak.

It isn’t until they’re as clean as they can be and Estinien darkens the lamp that they situate themselves under the blanket, Estinien draped over Alphinaud pleasantly, chest against his back, and then Alphinaud can speak.

“That was… that was good,” he says it so quietly it’s really more of a whisper. Estinien kisses the back of his head.

“Hmm. Then I am glad,” Estinien answers. “I was… concerned. That I had influenced your decision. That I had rushed you. I was trying… very hard to let you be ready on your own.”

“I appreciate it. But if it’s all the same… I’m very glad that it was you. And I think… I was sure it would be you that night under the stars. The first night you kissed me.”

Estinien doesn’t say anything, but his loose hold on Alphinaud tightens just slightly.

“My first was a long time ago. And there have been many others since then. Mostly out of convenience. Or fascination. Curiosity. And that is all fine with me. I don’t much care as long as everyone is there by choice.” Estinien says. “But you’re so young.”

“I’m not _that_ much younger than you!”

“You are eighteen.”

Alphinaud huffs. “You seem to fixate on that quite a bit, you know. If you think you were _humoring_ me or—“

“No,” Estinien interrupts. “I don’t _humor._ I merely… I wonder. Why me?”

He says, “Because you’re you _._ Is that so difficult to believe? _”_

Estinien makes a thoughtful humming sound, fingers twitching against Alphinaud’s skin.

“What if I weren’t…”

“Weren’t what? The Azure Dragoon of Ishgard?” Alphinaud asks, fingers tracing lightly over the back of Estinien’s hand and up his arm, raising gooseflesh as he goes. “Weren’t strong? Weren’t important?”

“…Yes.”

“I do not know,” he answers honestly. “I do not know how I would feel in another circumstance. But I know how I feel right now in this one. And in this one, I wanted you. Is that not enough?”

Estinien sighs, buries his face in Alphinaud’s hair. “It will have to be,” he says with just a hint of teasing.

Alphinaud closes his eyes, body pleasantly sore, warm in Estinien's solid embrace. Of all the things he expected to experience on this strange journey, this was least of all, and it's difficult to believe as he rests in Estinien's hold that come morning they will climb to meet Hraesvelger, and if all goes as according to plan, they will successfully end the Dragonsong War with the minimum amount of lives lost. It had seemed an impossible goal, but here at the end of their trip, Alphinaud genuinely believes that peace can be achieved.

 

\--

 

When ultimately Hraesvelgr rebuffs them with the truth of Ishgard's treacherous history, and Rampaging, Alphinaud, and Estinien return to Ishgard to find a new way to reach Nidhogg, Alphinaud is crushed. Rampaging wastes no time in hunting down Cid, but Alphinaud does not immediately follow. He expects now with their journey concluded, Estinien and he will part ways as lovers, but he thinks they hopefully will remain allies and friends. Somehow this is not as comforting as Alphinaud had hoped it would be; he finds that despite having so little he can offer, he wants desperately for Estinien to remain with him.

"I must go," Estinien tells him on the front steps of the Fortemps Manor. "I have many duties to perform."

"I understand," Alphinaud says, face carefully expressionless. He cannot see Estinien's eyes with his armor in place, and he prefers it that way for this. "Thank you for... for your time."

Estinien snorts rudely. "Do not sound so formal. I won't be gone long. Unless... you would prefer I stay away?"

"No!" Alphinaud exclaims. "To be completely honest, I wasn't sure if you would want... more of this thing between us, when we returned to Ishgard. There are so many--"

Estinien says, gruffly, "What was it I told you the night you confessed to me?"

"Um..."

"I told you to forget about whoever else might want to bed me. What do you _want,_ Alphinaud?"

He is quiet for a long moment and then Alphinaud says, determined, "I want _you_."

Estinien smiles. Then he pulls Alphinaud close and kisses him there on the street, claims his mouth with his tongue and they kiss until the people on the street surrounding them become a blur, become nothing, and finally Alphinaud accepts that perhaps Estinien's interest in him has been more than merely convenience. The people in the square may look on to see their Azure Dragoon kissing a foreigner, and a rather scrawny, mouthy one at that, but Alphinaud decides he doesn't care what they think. Estinien doesn't draw back until Alphinaud is entirely breathless. Estinien gently runs a hand through Alphinaud's hair with his claws gauntlet.

"Good," Estinien says firmly. "I am far from done with you."

His words are heavy with promise that makes Alphinaud's cheeks flush. Then Estinien is walking away, back towards the barracks. Alphinaud fondly watches him go, truly assured that whatever relationship they had begun between them in the forests and mountains of Dravania, it is the one thing from their journey that will last.

**Author's Note:**

> Rampaging and Ysayle completely 100% absolutely definitely heard the noises from the other tent and Rampaging is a good friend so she limited her teasing to waggling eyebrows the morning after, which was all it took to make Alphinaud's face turn pink during breakfast. She and Ysayle did spend several nights debating about how much of Estinien's armor he removes before bed, and whether or not he took his helm off at all during sex. They still haven't reached a consensus.
> 
> And yeah they definitely bone down more times than I wrote here but a bitch has to get an education, you know? This is what I have for the roadtrip. I'll add more installments to the series later, I promise.
> 
> Title of the fic comes from another song on the FFXIV: Heavensward OST


End file.
